a few more (this poem may sound violent and sick, but I've never hurt or molested or done anything to anyone... basically it's emotional masochism - if that exists - these poems are also before memories really resurfaced hard)-----

Existential chaos, existential death.Alone inside my cell rolling in the mire of mother earth's rotting carcass.If reality is what you make of it, I must have a disease.An addicting masochistic fantasy.

I search for the keys but always come up short. Vile sickness!I torture myself to make sure I'm still alivepreying on innocent sinners as they pass my crooked bars.Tattered wings of vanity sheathe the wounds from my own self-deceit.

-----Saved by the Storm

I walk outside and fire up a cigarette. The vivid display of nature in the sky reminds me that some things in life are still beautiful. Taking a drink of my beer I cough from the dececration of smoke traveling through my body. It pushes deeper and deeper until my mouth begins to salivate and I think of all the nights puking in drunken pity parties. I can taste the salami sandwich I ate two hours ago as my insides explode from my body. I'm not even drunk, but still, I get sick. All the thoughts no one will appreciate drip from my lips leaving a remorseful taste in my mouth. I feel my body getting hot as another crash of thunder lights the cloudy sky. The rain cools my fever and assures me that I won't combust tonight.

Midnight, you do express deep thoughts and feelings in a way many of us can relate to--unfortunately.

For too many years we have looked upon ourselves as though we are somehow dirty and damaged property. We are not! Sexual acts were committed on us, but that does not make us dirty. I think it would be like going into a coal mine and getting coal dust all over us. We would look dirty and our skin and clothes would be dirty. But, a simple shower and change of clothes shows us to be clean and fresh and good.

We are not dirty or rotting. We can think that we are. But eventually we come to realise that we were beautiful, probably innocent boys when we were hurt. That beauty and innocence is still in us, but it has gotten to look like there is coal dust on us. The sickness is in the adult or older boy or girl who harmed us.

You are tuned in to beauty in nature--now get tuned in to the beauty in you.

Bob

_________________________
If we do not live what we believe, then we will begin to believe what we live.

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